So, a little information. This takes place during initiation training, before Tris and Four are actually together. There's still little bits in here, but I wouldn't say any actual romance...yet. Just wait for the next chapters! As always, review and tell me what you think, as well as any ideas you might have. That's all folks!

I walked out of the training room, chatting to Christina and Will about food and life back home, when I was tapped on the shoulder by someone. I whipped round, on my guard in case it was Peter, making another threat, or Molly, with another article about my parents, when I realised who it was and relaxed, in an odd way. I was relaxed in the sense that I was no longer panicked it was someone threatening or dangerous, but still on edge because it was Four. I told myself that I should be nervous because my instructor was about to speak to me after a training session, and not because it meant we would be in a room alone together. However, me scolding myself about the reason for my quick heartbeat did nothing to actually change the reason, just make me feel like I was blushing, which was a problem I needed to sort out. As I asked what was wrong, I put my hands to my face to try and cool my cheeks, therefore stopping the blush I knew was creeping up my face.
"Just wait a second." he said, watching all the others file out until we were the only ones left. "Your throw is good, but you need to put your body into it." he started, but my confused face must have stopped him. Why was he telling me what was wrong with my throw now, as opposed to in the session when he was meant to. I asked him this, and he seemed to think, almost nervously, before slowly replying,
"You're good at this. Too good. This means you're being singled out by others already, and my helping you will just make people single you out more. That's not what you want. So, I'm going to help you now instead." he explained, and I couldn't help but smile at the thought that went into his answer, and at the fact we would definitely be in a room alone for at least ten minutes. Again, I scolded myself, told myself that I should use this time wisely and help improve my performance more, to gain me a better position on the boards.

After half an hour, in which he placed his hands on my abdomen or shoulders five times, he concluded that we were done. Even though I was already tired from the original training session and was now even more tired from throwing myself at a punching bag in an effort to get it to move and chucking knives at the target, each time he touched me, lightly - to show me how to do something, it felt like somebody had fired electric shocks through my bloodstream. It made the area tingle, me blush, although I hoped it didn't show, and made me feel like I could go on for at least another fifteen minutes without getting tired. Finally, he decided we were done, and, at the end as I was walking out the room and he was holding the door open for me, he stopped me.
"You're doing great." he said, the corners of his lips pulling up slightly, "You really deserve to be here, so keep working hard." And then, as we looked at each other, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the ear that he'd nicked on purpose. I felt myself freeze, and reminded myself to breathe. His hand also seemed to freeze, until he moved it again about five seconds later to touch the almost healed cut that he'd caused.
"Sorry about that, again." he whispered, and walked out before I had time to say anything. Finally, I felt myself breathe normally again, although I couldn't stop replaying the moment again and again in my head as I walked back to the dorm.

As I strode into the dorm, Christina almost launched herself onto me, she was so eager to ask about what happened. I briefly explained that he'd given me a few extra minutes to sort out my throw, leaving out the part where he helped me fight as well, and the scene at the end. Bored with my mundane answer, she rolled her eyes and pulled out a roll of bread from her pocket.
"I figured you'd need food after you missed dinner, but your answer was so boring I don't want to give it to you!" she laughed, and handed me the roll. I bit into it, then remembered something I'd realised in training this morning that I hadn't had a chance to ask her about at lunch, that I was suddenly reminded of when practicing with Four. Even though I thought of myself as a Dauntless, although I was still going through initiation, there were still some parts of me that definitely came from Abnegation, like my need for modesty. Although I hated to talk to her about it, I needed Christina's help.
"Actually, there was something..." I nervously began, and she grinned widely in anticipation. "When I was training I noticed it, and I noticed it again earlier. I've never had an actual bra, just one of those fabric things. I was wondering if you could...help me?" She stared at me in disbelief, and muttered a surprised "what" under her breath before replying,
"You've never had an actual bra? Just a training bra? Wow, Abnegation really is shit. Okay, take your top off." It was my turn to stare at her in disbelief, and I protested to stripping right there in the dorm where anyone could walk in. Abnegation was not shit. I thought, irritated at her berating my past faction, again. Yes, it was backward, simplistic and boring, but not shit. You couldn't even lie in Candor, that's shit.
"Can we go somewhere else? What if someone walks in?" I protested, knowing that although they were at dinner, it wasn't impossible.
Rolling her eyes, she agreed, and suggested the training rooms.

Once in there, she again told me to take my top off, which I did, and started measuring me. Although it was awkward, I was glad she was there, as it seemed complicated and I wasn't entirely sure I'd be able to do that myself, considering I had no idea what all the letters and numbers meant. Thank God for Christina and her lack of boundaries. I thought. When she'd finished telling me to stand up straight and muttering under her breath, she finally pronounced she was done.
"I can't believe you've been through the past week without a bra! It must have been hell!" she sympathised, and I nodded. Suddenly, we heard footsteps coming towards the training room, and ducked behind a table. Relieved I was wearing black, as everyone does, I breathed a sigh of relief that we got behind the table in time as someone walked through the door. Christina, however, had an expression of terror on her face. She pointed towards something lying in the middle of the floor, and as I looked closer I could see it was a tampon. I gestured
"What?" at her, and she nervously brushed her hair behind her ear before biting her lip and mouthing
"It must have fallen out of my pocket!" All hope that whoever was in here wouldn't notice it was useless, as they slowly bent down to pick it up. My breath seemed to catch in my throat as I noticed who it was, Four. If he caught me in here, it would be even worse than if somebody else did. As he noticed what it was, he started muttering angrily to himself, under his breath.
"This must be another one of Zeke's pranks. I swear to God, if I go out there and there's a trail of these leading to my room, I'm going to bloody kill him." With that, he stalked out the room, clearly shocked when there was nothing there. He just shook his head and left, leaving Christina and I to jump out from behind the table and go back to the dorm. Once there, we laughed about what had happened, but were very relieved we weren't caught.
"Okay, now we know what size you are, we need to go and actually buy you some bras." She pronounced, and I sighed, knowing that with Christina it would take much longer than necessary.

By the next day, I'd been tortured enough to never want to go shopping with Christina again, as well as having about seven or eight bras, not knowing the full number, as I'd lost count by the fourth shop. We had another training session, this one with plain punching bags and mats to practice, and I could tell I was much better than the day before, most likely because of the extra help I'd had. At the end, Eric looked at me as we were all leaving and said
"Stiff." I looked at him, stopping in the doorway, as people pushed past me in the rush to get to lunch. He beckoned towards me, and I slowly walked towards him, noticing Four stood in the corner, cleaning guns.
"So, Stiff. I heard you had an extra training session yesterday, is that right?" he asked, in a deadly quiet voice. Not knowing what to do, I shook my head while thinking of what to say, and once I had an idea I replied,
"No, it was just me practicing with the punching bags before dinner. There was no-one else there." He seemed to think for a moment too, then leaned closer to me and almost whispered,
"Be careful, Stiff. I'm going to be watching you, very closely."